Cold Shooting, Hot Grit: Sioux Falls' Second-Half Surge Falls Short in Showdown
Paul Riverbank, 12/14/2025Sioux Falls struggles in a tight matchup against Winona State, with poor three-point shooting overshadowing a strong inside game. Meanwhile, Northern State thrives on defense and bench depth to secure a win against Bemidji State. Both narratives explore resilience in sports and life.It was one of those nights on the hardwood where every inch mattered and the ball seemed to have a mind of its own. The University of Sioux Falls women’s basketball squad ran into a wall almost every time they looked for the deep ball against Winona State. Three times all night did the Cougars’ shots from the arc find their mark—just three out of sixteen. That chill from long range seeped into everything else, making every possession a fight against the odds.
Inside, though, the story took a sharper turn. From mid-range and closer, the Cougars managed to regain their form, hitting at a 50-percent clip. There was hope, flashes of it—a hot hand after a sluggish opening quarter, where they trailed by thirteen, felt like a possible turning point. Second-quarter life saw them nearly erase the deficit, thanks to an 8-for-11 shooting spree right before half. Momentum, briefly, swapped jerseys.
But Winona State, gritty and relentless, pressed their advantage at the stripe and on the glass. Twenty-six times they marched to the free throw line, making the Cougars pay for every reach and bump. Nineteen of those went through—it’s tough to overstate what that does to a scoreboard in a close game. The real backbreaker, though, was relentless work in the paint. The Warriors hauled down 35 rebounds, including 15 offensive—imagine that, 15 extra bites at the apple. The phrase “second-chance points” probably doesn’t do justice to the way those extra possessions slowly wrestled the game away from Sioux Falls.
By the final buzzer, the numbers told a plain story: 77-68, Winona State, their composure at the line down the stretch transforming missed opportunities into closing confidence. Seven out of ten free throws sunk in crunch time—just enough to tip the scales.
Elsewhere, Northern State found themselves in a fistfight of another sort against Bemidji State. The first half swung back and forth, two sides jab-stepping through a low-scoring stalemate. Third quarter, though, the Wolves broke the mold, catching fire for 25 points and finally giving themselves some breathing room.
Bench depth proved vital: 22 points from the reserves kept the energy high while a standout stat line—15 points, six boards, and a pair of blocks—anchored the effort. Still, defense became Northern’s calling card. Bemidji just couldn’t buy a three, managing one the whole night for a miserable 7.7% from deep. Kassandra Caron’s 24 points almost changed things, but the Beavers spent too long scratching for baskets against a defense that simply wasn’t yielding.
On the glass, Northern State was quietly dominant. A 5-foot-8 freshman nabbed eight of the team’s 38 rebounds—proof that hustle sometimes beats height. That edge in rebounding shut down every would-be rally from Bemidji, the Wolves ultimately securing a 62-55 win.
Across the world, meanwhile, a different kind of contest played out—not on polished wood, but in the teeming neighborhoods of Kolkata. There, the Fatafat lottery continued to draw crowds, its eight daily “bazis” offering a regular shot at luck. Each round was a new chapter; results posted online every 90 minutes kept hope alive, no matter how many past disappointments lingered.
Thousands tuned in, scanned their numbers, and waited. The system was simple enough—a fresh sheet with every bazi, anticipation building with each consecutive result. While the odds remain long, the thrill and a fleeting shot at fortune make Kolkata Fatafat almost ritual for many locals.
Whether it’s the chase for a loose rebound, a steady hand near the line, or the quiet hush just before lottery numbers drop, competition—by skill or by chance—pulls us in the same way. In Sioux Falls, missed threes meant heartbreak. In Kolkata, old hopes and new ones coexist, refreshed with every draw. What unites them is the drama of second chances—the idea that, if we’re just a little more persistent, fortune might change.